Chapter 8: Chapter Seven

The Devil's Gaze

Mirabella let out a soft laugh, leaning slightly forward on the polished counter, her fingers now wrapped around a glass of sparkling lemonade. Mario, the grey-haired bartender with eyes that still held a glint of wild youth, had just told her a story about a drunk politician who'd once mistaken the stage for a urinal.

"And he pissed right there on stage," Mario said, wiping a glass dry with a knowing grin. "Stage lights and all. He damn near gave the girls a stroke."

"No way," Mira laughed again, the sound light and genuine. "That’s ridiculous."

“You’ve got a pretty laugh, sweetheart,” he said as he poured another cocktail, “but try not to wander around too much. Stick close to your friends, yeah?” Mario winked. "Actually, everything’s ridiculous around here, sweetheart. But keep that laugh tucked safe. This place feeds on innocence."

Not knowing what to say or how to reply to his sudden change of tune, she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You sound like my dad.”

Mario snorted. “Trust me, kid. The Devil’s Den isn’t for wandering angels.”

Mira gave him a small nod, touched by the warning, even if she didn’t fully understand it.

The base of the club throbbed beneath her feet: the pulsing music, flashing neon lights, bodies moving against each other like sin wrapped in flesh. This place was very sensual and loud, and she wondered how people were able to tolerate such noise for a very long time. This was something she would face soon, and she had to get used to it. She sighed heavily as her shoulders relaxed.

Just then, Aria came bouncing back over from the dancing floor, her eyes lit up with wine and wild music.

"Oh come on, babe! Don’t just sit there flirting with old men," she teased, grabbing Mira’s arm. "Dance with me! You’ve been hiding in the corner too long."

"I wasn’t hiding, I was just…"

"Drinking lemonade like a nun," Aria finished, dragging her to the dance floor.

Mira hesitated a little, but then shrugged and gave in, downing the last of her drink. “Ok Aria, let’s go crazy for a while.”

Aria gave her a toothy smile in approval.

Ryan was already dancing, his shirt already half unbuttoned and sweat slicking over his chest. The moment Mira joined them, they pulled her in.

Aria handed her another drink as they danced. As she sipped from it, it burned down her throat and she loved the feeling.

The music was infectious, heavy with bass and seduction. Her inhibitions blurred with each drink, each twist of her hips. She could feel herself letting go a little, and she felt good. She felt alive.

The girls and Ryan lost themselves to the rhythm. Mira let go. The liquor thrummed through her veins. Her hips moved with the beat, laughter bubbling out of her as Aria spun her around. They danced like no one watched, oblivious to the storm brewing above and the eyes watching.

Hunter’s POV

From the VIP balcony above, I had a clear view of everything. The silver rail was cold as I rested my hands on it, nursing a glass of dark scotch while Gabriel muttered something about showing them who we were.

But I wasn’t listening to him.

I couldn’t hear a goddamn thing he was saying at that moment, because she was there.

Mirabella fucking Antonio.

Four years had passed, but I would’ve recognized that silhouette anywhere. That perfect curve of her hip, which is rounder now, swaying with each beat, the smooth stretch of honeyed skin where her short, tight dress rode her thighs. Her laughter and the bubbling of her head cut through the filth of this place like silk through fire, even though I can't hear the sound through the loud music. Her body does not look innocent. Never had it ever looked innocent in my eyes. Even when she was fifteen, my body had always reacted to her. Only her face looks innocent.

She looked sinful.

My cock stirred instantly—like it remembered what my mind never forgot. She had blossomed into the kind of woman that ruins men. Fuck, she was a flame dressed in temptation. Those hips. That mouth. The way her breasts bounced when she threw her head back in laughter, completely oblivious to who watched.

To whom owned her.

Yes. Owned.

She was mine. Always has been.

That’s why I let her go.

Not to protect her. Nor was it out of mercy.

I let her grow into this.

A ripe fucking fruit, waiting for my hands. For my mouth. For the weight of my body. For my cock.

She belonged to me. Whether she wanted it or not.

She wasn't fifteen anymore. She is a woman now. And every inch of her called to the demon inside me.

I’d been watching her for years. Made sure she was safe. Kept her under close guard even when she didn’t know. Sent men to tail her, checked her school reports, tracked her every move. Even her friends.

And now, she is here.

At my club.

In my world.

She has now followed her friend to the dance floor. Someone else was with them. A guy. But he was not a problem since he was keeping his hands to himself. Good.

I took a slow sip of my scotch, smirking as she spun, giving me a fine view of her dress clinging to her perfect ass. My hand tightened on the glass. My dick throbbed in my pants. My dick recognizes her so well, which is not a surprise at all. I have had wet dreams about her, fucked faceless bitches because of her.

She had no idea what she had just walked into.

My jaw flexed. My cock twisted.

No, I wasn’t going to protect her from myself.

I was going to take her.

Claim her.

Ruin her.

She would be my plaything; my soft, writhing obsession. And I’d sink my teeth into her soul until she forgot who she was before me. Until she begged to never leave my bed.

My sweet little doll.

She fucking came back on her own.

Gabriel's voice finally broke through my haze. “Jackie’s coming over.”

My eyes didn’t shift from Mira. Not yet.

Jackie.

Oh Good.

She’d have to do it for now.

Because my cock was growing hard as steel just watching Mirabella dance. I shifted slightly, letting the pressure throb as I licked my lips and cursed under my breath.

Jackie would be used to release this pressure growing in my pants.

But only after I’d watched my girl for a little longer.

Only after I’d memorized every bounce of her breasts, every sway of those perfect hips, every flick of that tongue across her lips.

Yes, Jackie will be used tonight.

But Mira…

Mira was the reason.

And she had no idea she had just awoken the devil. Her devil.